


Destiny and Memory

by Crossovers_and_Randomness



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Found Family, Gen, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Slave Trade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-24 03:14:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30065796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crossovers_and_Randomness/pseuds/Crossovers_and_Randomness
Summary: When Rey receives an unexpected message from the Force, she has to return to a place she swore she'd left behind forever. A rescue and an unexpected discovery force her to confront her own destiny and the future of the Jedi.
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

Rey was deep in the forests of Ajan Kloss when she stopped running.

Early evening sun cast the underbrush in orange and the keening cry of an evening bird echoed through the trees as Rey skidded to a stop in the leaves, her breath coming in short gasps. The noise of the Resistance base had long since disappeared into the padded silence of the forest, but the men’s words still echoed in her mind.

 _You reckon she’s going to start bringing in more Jedi?_ She’d heard the conversation from across the room as she sat, half-hidden behind a shelf, a yellowed book in her lap. _Don’t they train them from children or something?_

It wasn’t the first time. Her name was everywhere now, whispered in Resistance hallways with a sense of reverence she certainly didn’t deserve, in the news that spread like lightning across the galaxy, and once she’d even heard it crackling across an ancient radio aboard the Falcon. _Rey, the Jedi who defeated the Emperor._ The line had gone dead, leaving only her name echoing in the silence.

She settled onto a log that lay half-buried in the dirt and leaves, closing her eyes and gulping in deep breaths of the cool evening air. She could still hear Finn’s words, a few weeks after the battle at Exegol. _I’m Force-sensitive, Rey. I don’t know when I first knew, but…_ he’d trailed off, looking at her with dark eyes like a sad pup, and she’d felt the question hanging in the air between them. _Will you train me?_

She’d hugged him and laughed and said _that’s wonderful,_ but she hadn’t said anything about training.

How many other Force-sensitives across the galaxy had heard her name and wondered the same thing?

She’d run. The minute she’d heard the words, she’d jumped up and ran, letting the book slide in a whisper to the ground. She’d run deep into the forest, away from the cacophony of presences and feelings and memories that stained the base.

She couldn’t do it.

The realization settled deep inside her with a horrible certainty. What did she know of training others in the Force? She could hardly be considered a trained Jedi herself. What, indeed, did she know of the Force? Less than Master Skywalker. Less than any of the Jedi who had spoken to her in the ruins of Exegol. Less, even, than Leia, who had not been a Jedi herself.

And yet now, all eyes in the universe were upon her, expecting her to usher in a new age of the Jedi.

“Go to Jakku, you must.”

The presence appeared so suddenly that she started and one hand went to her lightsaber. She turned quickly to see a small form perched on the log beside her, draped in brown robes with large green ears and a wrinkled face.

“Master Yoda.” She’d never seen him, but she knew him at once from the stories.

“Indeed, Master Yoda I am. Return to Jakku, you must.”

“Jakku?” She shook her head. “No. I’m never going back there.”

“Return, you must. Tells me, the Force does.”

“But…why?” _Why Jakku?_ The question rang unspoken in the space between them. Why not anywhere else? If it had to be a desert, why wouldn’t Tatooine do?

“Know all, I do not.” Master Yoda thumped his cane on the ground with surprising strength for a spirit. The leaves beneath it crunched. “Shines brightly in the Force, Jakku does. Find something important there, you will. All I know, that is.”

“But…” _But why haven’t I felt it?_ She started to speak, to ask the question she was sure he’d know how to answer, but in a shimmer of blue, the old Jedi disappeared again, like a star-streak into the Force, leaving her alone.

Completely alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which I spend an entire chapter having fun with descriptions.

The sunset stained the desert orange when Rey stepped off the ramp of the Falcon and into the sands of Jakku.

Master Yoda’s words had haunted her all that evening and into the night, bouncing about in her mind until they burrowed deep in her soul. She’d lain awake, staring into the darkness, and knew that the old Jedi master had spoken true.

She didn’t know why, but she knew she had to return to the planet she’d sworn to leave behind forever.

Nights shadows had draped the Resistance base as the Falcon, empty and echoing but for her small presence in the cockpit, slid from the atmosphere and leaped to hyperspace. A scribble on a holopad in the landing bay, _Leaving, unexpected mission, hope to return soon. Rey._

The dunes rang with memory as she trudged off toward Niima Outpost, which lay ahead of her like a sprawling beast in the desert. As if she were a spirit watching the years pass, she saw herself as a child, tugging her net of parts back to her speeder and zooming off across the sand. Hungry days and sleepless nights. Heat turning swiftly to cold as the sun slipped below the horizon, huddling in the ruins of an empire with a threadbare blanket pulled around her shoulders. The living rush of the marketplace cut through the memories, people moving about between the tents, bartering and shouting.

She clenched her fists and closed her eyes for a moment. Some of those shouting voices had once been directed at her.

Why was she here?

She couldn’t hear the Force over the crying ghosts of the past.

_Please. Lead me…_

Silence.

Little had changed since she’d left. The same tents sat with twisted spikes driven into the sand, fabric fluttering in the evening breeze. Old Mari sat at her stool, scrubbing parts. Rey looked away as she passed. If she didn’t make eye contact, maybe the old woman wouldn’t recognize her.

There in the center, Unkar Plutt’s tent still stood, a bustle of shouts and clinking of money.

She kept her eyes on the ground as she entered. Why was she even walking back through this marketplace, seeing all these old faces? If she saw it one more time, would it no longer haunt her dreams?

Several pairs of eyes turned toward her as she stepped into the dusky shadows of the tent. Stares. Was she a stranger here now, forgotten the moment she left?

A ragged little boy jumped to his feet and ran forward, a grin sparkling across his face.

“Are you a Jedi?” he exclaimed, his gaze resting on the lightsaber hilt at her hip.

She just looked at him a long moment before nodding. “Yes…”

“Rey!” The voice thundered across the tent and she started and looked up, then ducked her head again. Memories dragged behind Unkar Plutt like a pulse—a hand tightening on her arm as she screamed for her parents, his growling voice stating curtly that if she didn’t work, she could starve. She tried to set her shoulders back and stand straight as her old, flat-face boss stumped toward her.

He glared up at her, his hands on hips. “I know your face,” he growled. “Scavenger girl.” His movements were tense, ready to run or fight or call for guards. “Jedi.”

“I didn’t come for revenge.” She knew the words were true as she spoke them. No, she didn’t want revenge. The man cared for no one but himself, but he was far from evil. She’d looked evil in the face, and a hardened trader scrabbling out a life in a lawless desert wasn’t it. “In fact, I’d rather not be here.” She turned sharply, not waiting for his response, and stepped out of the tent. She didn’t look back.

She needed to get out of here.

The sun was just touching the horizon in flaming orange when she reached the old fallen AT-AT, still half-buried in the sand, only a bit rustier now. The noise of Niima Outpost was a murmur in the dusk and shadows draped the ruin she had once called home. She circled around the back of the old imperial walker, drawn by an odd tug of curiosity.

The old rebel helmet lay against the rusty wall, half-buried by the desert winds.

She drew it up in a shower of sand, blinking through the mist that blurred her vision. The old Resistance symbol was nearly gone now, worn away by desert winds and time. She drew the helmet to her chest, closing her eyes and leaning her forehead against the warm metal of the fallen walker.

Every evening, she’d dared to dream here as she’d watched the sun set.

Silence hovered around her like a living thing, but inside it she heard the scratch of metal on metal as she counted the days, the years flashing by like a hologram played in fast-motion. A tear slipped down her cheek and she crumpled forward, the helmet pressing into her stomach.

_Why?_

_Why did I think coming back here would ever be a good idea?_

The clanking of metal jarred through her thoughts and she was on her feet in an instant, the helmet plopping into the sand as she peered out into the dusk. A hulking beast of a sand-truck swayed and bounced across the plains of sand, looking as if it might fall to pieces at the next bump.

A chill swept through her. She knew that truck.

Slave traders.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wheeee Rey being a badass

That truck had lumbered past before like some great beast on the outskirts of Niima Outpost, occasionally stopping to trade its living cargo with some of the more disreputable merchants that made their homes on the fringes of the desert town. Twice she’d seen them cart the slaves out the back of the truck, the images of the captives chained together with rusty handcuffs, their eyes downcast, burned into her mind forever. Once she’d caught a glimpse of blood seeping through a torn shirt.

She’d cried those nights, wishing she could’ve— _would’ve—_ stepped up and done something, but knowing any attempt could only end with herself as one more slave at the end of the line.

But it wasn’t like that anymore. She was no longer a scavenger at the mercy of the desert ruffians.

Now, she could do something.

* * *

Moonlight washed the desert plains in silver as Rey slipped into the shadow of the slave-truck.

She’d taken the long way around Niima Outpost and retrieved a bag of strategic supplies from the Falcon before circling back and watching the truck, crouched behind a hillock of sand. As she’d suspected, the slavers had settled in place just outside the outpost and placed a guard at the main entrance, waiting until morning to haggle with the merchants in the marketplace. Raucous laughter had echoed out the door and formed a pit in her stomach. 

Probably celebrating the money they were sure to bring in tomorrow. 

The guard leaned against the side of the truck, a great burly hulk of a man, fiddling with the butt-end of his blaster as he stared blankly out over the desert. Rey crept down the side of the great rusty truck toward the bubble of light from his lantern. She could take him in a fight. But she wouldn’t have to.

She took a breath and stepped into the light.

He whirled, large fingers closing around his blaster. She lifted a hand and he froze in place, eyes widening as he strained against the invisible bond. With one stride she was in arm’s reach. Two fingers pressed against his forehead and his body relaxed, his eyes closed, and he slumped to the ground at her feet.

She crouched, grabbed the clinking ring of keys from his belt, and turned to the door. She flicked through the keys and nodded. Only one of the keys on the ring could’ve turned the huge, old-fashioned lock. She shoved it in, turned it, and heard a click.

She slipped the keys into the sack at her side and jumped lightly inside.

She stood in the console room, two chairs in front of a control panel. A large, dirty window looked out over the desert. Two doors led from the room into the rest of the truck. She glanced between them, still as a night-wisp, listening. Which led to the crew’s quarters and which led to the _cargo hold?_

She reached into the sack at her side. First she’d plant the detonators.

She was going to get the poor captives out and then take the truck down on their captors’ heads.

She clipped two remote detonators to either end of the control panel. That should at least ruin the truck’s main systems. She’d save the rest of her stash to place throughout the hold, hopefully blow the whole thing to pieces.

A whisper of a voice drifted through the door on the right and she froze.

“…valuable one.” It was a drawl, slurring as if drunk. “Bring us _good_ money, eh?”

“You got it, you got it.” A clink of glass, and the laughter of at least three voices. “Haven’t picked one of these up in years, I tell you. Traders’ll pay _thousands._ ” More laughter. “Millions!”

She clenched her jaw. Whoever they were talking about, they weren’t going to get their millions from them.

And now she knew which door led to the hold.

She took a quiet, careful step toward the door on the left, hesitated, and grabbed a bit of wire from her pocket. This would be easier and quieter than clinking through the ring of keys and checking every one. Dropping to a crouch, she slipped the wire into the lock.

A moment later she was through, closing the door behind her and locking it again. If they wanted to find her, they’d have to pick their own locks.

She stood in a small storage area, stacked with boxes and crates and rusty metal parts. A door, closed and locked, took up most of the opposite wall. The large space on the other side seemed to seep around the edges, echoing with the memories embedded into the very metal of the truck.

Screams.

Sobs.

Shattered hopes.

A breath later, she’d worked the wire into the lock and stepped through into the cargo hold.

Every movement echoed in the cavernous room. Dirty lights mounted in the walls cast dim pockets of light across rows of metal cages. She drew a flashlight from her pouch and flicked it on, scanning it across the room like a searchlight and casting stark, stretching shadows of bars.

An eerie silence filled the room and pooled in the corners. She cast tendril of a sense around the room, searching for the pulse of a living soul.

Only emptiness.

But there must be someone here. They’d spoken of _it,_ whatever _it_ was. She swept the flashlight down the first row of cages—empty and dirty, as if used to house animals. She shifted the beam to the second row. Empty, empty—the light flashed off brown fur and a presence sprang into focus, a soul so exhausted she hadn’t felt its heartbeat at first.

She was in front of the cage in three running strides, shining the beam through the rusted bars.

Two large brown eyes stared at her out of a ball of matted fur.

A tiny wookiee.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cutenesssssss

“Hey.”   
Rey’s whisper echoed through the cavernous space and she froze, ready to slip into the nearest shadow. Nothing moved, and she edged closer to the bars. “Hey. I’m here to get you out, okay?”   
The brown fluffball curled into itself as if it could disappear into the corner of the cell. Rey swallowed.   
“I know you don’t know me, but I promise, I want to help.”   
A slight movement. Large brown eyes looked up at her again.   
She kept her voice a whisper. “I’m here to help. I’m not going to hurt you.”   
The eyes didn’t close this time. The fluff uncurled a bit.   
She pressed her hand against the cell door, the metal cool against her palm. These locks were a bit more sophisticated—not something she could simply stick a wire into and be done. They required a key and a code…but perhaps…  
It was a precise maneuver, but she’d tried it once before. A wisp of Force-pressure here, a tendril like a breeze slipping behind the keypad and going straight for the lock. Her breathing slowed and time ticked by in seconds.   
Click.   
Another click.   
The cell door drifted open.   
She took a breath of a second to re-center herself before nudging the door open far enough to slip inside. The wookiee curled away from her again and she froze in a crouch, one hand reaching forward.   
“It’s okay,” she breathed. “I’m going to get you out. Just trust me.”   
A whisper of movement. The wookiee pup looked up at her again.   
She edged closer, close enough to brush the matted fur.   
“Can you tell me your name?” She kept her voice low as she edged a hand forward, feeling for the cold metal of cuffs. Yes, they’d snapped cuffs around the wookiee’s wrists. She winced. Much too tight, too.   
A slight whine, and a few syllables breathed as softly as a wookiee could. Rey had learned enough shryiiwook from listening to Chewie to pick out the syllables. Rurracarra. A female wookiee name, she was sure.   
She slipped the wire into her hand. “Can I call you Rurra?”   
The young wookiee nodded, a slight movement.  
“Rurra, this might hurt, but I need you to turn around. I’m going to take your cuffs off.”   
Without a sound, Rurra shifted in the hay until her wrists faced Rey.   
“Thank you,” Rey breathed. Closing her hand gently around Rurra’s wrist, she worked the wire into the keyhole, nose scrunching up a bit as she focused.   
Click.   
Rurra gave a small whine.   
Second handcuff. Another click. Another small whine.   
With a gentle Force-nudge, the handcuffs fell away. Blood stained the fur beneath them, skin rubbed raw by handcuffs locked too tight.   
“I’ll take care of the wounds later, okay?” Rey shifted around so she could look the wookiee in the face. “Now, we need to get out of here. Can I pick you up?”   
Rurra hesitated, then gave another slight nod, matted fur slipping over her eyes.   
Rey slipped her arms around the small furry body. Rurra’s arms immediately closed around her neck and she whined against Rey’s shoulder, hiding her face.   
“Okay, let’s go.” Rey stood and stepped out of the cell, every movement sending whispering echoes around the hold. She nudged the far door open and slipped through into the small storage room, keeping a firm hold on Rurra. She unclicked the lock into the console room and stepped through.   
A blaster pointed directly at her face.   
She stumbled a half-step backward then shifted her focus. Raising her free hand, she flicked the blaster away from the slaver’s hand, sending it flying across the room. A sneer curled across his face and he lunged for the weapon. She drew in a breath and tried to freeze him in place.   
Rurra’s arms curled tighter around Rey and she whimpered. Rey’s focus broke.   
The man snatched his blaster and raised it, a finger on the trigger.   
Rey’s hand closed around the detonator remote.   
“Stop.” The word was a command.   
The man froze.   
She held up the remote. “I’ve planted six detonators across your ship. You pull that trigger and I will press this button.”   
His finger tightened on the trigger.   
“I’m telling the truth.” She held the remote forward, her thumb hovering over the button. The man swayed a bit, his gaze blurry. Drunk. “And I don’t believe you’re a good enough aim to shoot me and not your valuable cargo.”   
Rurra let out a small whine and shifted against her arm. If only she could tell the young wookiee that she wasn’t planning on killing them both, and even if she did press that button she could hold off the collapse long enough to get them out the door…she gave Rurra a slight squeeze and kept her gaze locked on the man’s.   
“Name your price,” he slurred, “and you can have it.”   
Her eyes narrowed. “Oh, I don’t plan on paying,” she snapped. “Let me past and I might let you live.” Her voice was low, cold, and she found she meant it. Perhaps she’d let him live, perhaps not. Maybe he deserved to go to pieces with his truck for the lives he’d ruined.   
He rocked back a step. “Get out of here.” He muttered a curse in some language or another. “Before I shoot you both.”   
Rey held her head up and strode to the door, closing her free arm around Rurra as she jumped lightly to the ground and took off running, away from the truck and away from the man who could shoot her in the back at any moment. She emerged from the truck’s shadow and glanced back. Her hand closed around the remote.   
She pressed the button.   
The blast echoed across the desert. 


End file.
